As the days passed Serena still consumed her time roaming the fields that surrounded the Huff mansion. Since the night that her father had told her the truth about her real mother, Serena's mood had spiraled downward and she slowly slipped into depression. Her only relief was to get away from her father, the household, and her fake mother Scarlet. Serena knew that Scarlet had done an honorable deed, without her proposal to Norman, Serena would have surely died of starvation. However, Scarlet showed no motherly emotions towards Serena now. And Serena knew that her father did not love Scarlet. Lady Scarlet now resented them both no doubt.
"Whoa, easy girl." Serena pulled the reigns, slowing Aerionna's gait. She breathed in the frigid air, welcoming the icy sting in her lungs.
Little snowflakes slowly began to fall from the thick mass of gloomy grey clouds. Serena smiled, staring up into the heavens, the wind gently blew tendrils of her ebony tresses. She urged Aerionna forwards and took refuge under the boughs of a thick elm tree.
"Looks like it is going to storm soon. We are too far away from home though. Closest refuge now is the town." she told her horse and pulled her cape closer around her body. The temperature was dropping rapidly. Serena shivered and Aerionna whinnied as if telling Serena to hurry and find shelter from the soon approaching storm.
"Alright, let's go girl." Serena clicked her tongue and gently tapped the mare's sides with her boots. Aerionna took off at a brisk gallop, snowflakes battered against Serena's cold face as she bounced in the leather saddle.
Fifteen minutes later Serena galloped into the town of Ruby Field. The snow was falling heavily and Serena searched for an open inn or tavern. The streets were barren and showed no sign of life. When ever a big storm hit, most of the townspeople would shut down the entire village and lock themselves away in their homes or the local tavern to wait out the blizzard.
Serena dismounted in front of a tavern called What Ale's Ye and tied Aerionna's reigns around the wooden post.
"I'll be back for you, I promise." she whispered and rubbed the mare's neck then entered inside the small inn.
The dimly lit room smelled of ale, onions, and musk; Serena raised her sleeve to cover her nose. A young buxom waitress approached her and smiled a toothless grin. The woman's breasts nearly spilled over the bodice of the dirty, stained gown that she wore.
"What will ye have puppet?" she asked in a drunken slur. Serena smiled nervously, "Just something to drink please."
The waitress laughed, "Aye we have plenty of that here. What ye want to drink then? Ale? That's what everybody else wants." she said and stumbled around almost dropping the tray of grimy mugs that she was carrying.
"No, no. Nothing that strong." Serena said, shaking her head.
"Well take a s-seat and I'll pour ye a mug of h-hot apple cider." the waitress struggled to form the words as she turned and made her way to the bar. Serena looked around the musky room, searching for an empty table. Rounds of laughter and cursing rose from the tables mostly filled by men. The only women Serena could see were waitresses and they were all drunk it seemed. She walked slowly and several men stopped what they were doing and turned to watch her.
"Well what have we got here?" a large red haired man asked in a thick Scottish accent.
"Hey Simon, ye hire yerself a new waitress, have ye?" another man called out to the bartender across the room.
"She's a beauty!" one man said from a back corner of the room.
The Scottish man reached out and slapped Serena on the rear end. She yelped and whirled around.
"You will not handle me in such a disrespectful manner!" she spat at him. The man smiled revealing rotten teeth. There were large sweat stains near the under arm portion of his grimy shirt. Serena could smell his foul odor from where she stood.
"And who is going to stop me?" he looked around at the table that he shared with six other men that were just as brute looking as he. The men all laughed and raised their mugs gulping down ale. Serena backed away from the table slowly.
"I-I mean no harm...." she said nervously. The Scottish man stood and walked towards her.
"And neither do I puppet." he smiled, his eyes full of lust. The same drunk waitress appeared carrying a mug of steaming cider and stepped between Serena and the large man.
"Martin, have ye any respect for the poor girl?" she asked and slapped his broad chest. The brute of a man named Martin laughed loudly "Of course not dearie. Now stand out of me way ye rotten wench!" he growled and lunged towards Serena. "I see me self a pretty, precious little virgin!"
Serena cried out and raised her hands to shield her self from the drunken enraged man. Martin took Serena into his large arms and held her tightly against his chest. Serena whimpered and tried to free herself but was powerless against his strength.
"Unhand the maiden!" A voice sounded from behind Martin. He loosened his grasp and turned to see who had challenged him. Serena fled from his arms and ran to a corner on the other side of the room.
"Who dares challenge a Scotsman when he is about to claim his woman?"
A tall lean man stepped from the shadows and removed the hood of his black cape that covered most of his smooth face. He placed his hand on the studded hilt of his shining sword and stepped forward.
"That would be me, Peter Longstride, an Englishman at you service." The young man smiled and bowed sarcastically. Martin placed his chubby hands on his hips and chuckled.
"And who are ye to stop me?''
Peter shrugged and opened his mouth to reply.
"The way I see it, that innocent young damsel in distress was in need of a Savior; I merely rescued her from a filthy pig of a man." Martin's eyebrows furrowed and he glared at Peter.
"Ye best choose your words wisely boy. I don't take to being called names.''
''Yes and judging by your smell, you don't take to bathing either!'' Peter smiled and circled the large Scotsman, his hand ready to un-sheath his sword at any moment. Martin's face turned red, enraged with anger.
"Why I oughta-" he lunged at Peter, his hands outstretched. Peter swiftly stepped aside and Martin crashed into a pyramid of barrels. The empty barrels that once held onions, apples, and other vegetables rolled around on the wooden planked floorboards.
"Drunk I see, well this duel shall be a cinch!" Peter laughed and leaned down to help the Scotsman to his feet. Martin growled and wiped blood from his lip.
"I don't need help from a bloody Englishman!" he snapped and struggled to stand. He swayed and nearly toppled over. Peter waved his arms in the air.
"Give up Scotsman. You haven't got a chance!" Martin did not take likely to being challenged in such a manner. He had no plans of leaving without first taking out this cocky fool that was too good for his own liking. He steadied himself and gained his balance then turned to face the finely apparelled swordsman.
"A Scotsman never gives up!" he growled and swung a fist, lunging towards Peter.
"You do not look Scottish to me, why you're not even wearing a kilt! You're just a foolish, hotheaded imposter with a terrible accent!" Peter unsheathed his sword and swished it rapidly. It grazed Martin's arm slicing through his stained shirt. A thin line of bright red blood appeared. Martin stopped and covered the cut with his free hand.
"Why, you c-cut me! You bloody cut me!"
"Yes and I shall have no problem doing so again. I suggest that you bow out gracefully before you get yourself injured even more." Peter said trying to hide a smile. Martin stood up straight.
"I'll have the girl then." he replied in a deep voice. Peter smirked and turned to look at Serena who was hid in a corner behind a wooden table.
"She's not yours to have, I'm afraid." he answered. "She shall leave with me."
Martin wiped his brow streaking blood across his forehead.
"If she isn't mine, then what in the bloody blazes makes her yours?" he growled and stamped his boot heavily. Peter whirled and approached Serena. He stretched out his gloved hand to her. A look of worry filled her face and fear flashed in her eyes.
"Tell me fair maiden, who would you rather leave with on this stormy day?" he asked politely. Serena looked at the handsome young man who smelled of cedar and pine with a hint of musk. His eyes sparkled and dazzled like a pool of emeralds. When he smiled, his mouth revealed gleaming white teeth that were shaped perfectly. Serena then looked to the dirty, filthy, drunken Scotsman. A surge of confidence suddenly swept through her and she took Peter's hand.
"I don't think that I must choose for the solution is as clear as crystal." she replied as Peter led her from the corner and out into the main floor. Peter turned to face Martin.
"You have your answer. Now I suggest that you leave at once or I shall have to cut your oversized body into a thousand pieces right here and now."
Martin looked as if he would lunge towards Peter again. But he stopped himself then turned to exit the tavern.
"Ah keep the wretched wench!" He growled and stamped off.
"That's a good Scotsman!" Peter called out as Martin slammed the door behind him, stepping out into the roaring blizzard. Peter turned to Serena and smiled.
"Now how about that mug of cider you had asked for?"
"Whoa, easy girl." Serena pulled the reigns, slowing Aerionna's gait. She breathed in the frigid air, welcoming the icy sting in her lungs.
Little snowflakes slowly began to fall from the thick mass of gloomy grey clouds. Serena smiled, staring up into the heavens, the wind gently blew tendrils of her ebony tresses. She urged Aerionna forwards and took refuge under the boughs of a thick elm tree.
"Looks like it is going to storm soon. We are too far away from home though. Closest refuge now is the town." she told her horse and pulled her cape closer around her body. The temperature was dropping rapidly. Serena shivered and Aerionna whinnied as if telling Serena to hurry and find shelter from the soon approaching storm.
"Alright, let's go girl." Serena clicked her tongue and gently tapped the mare's sides with her boots. Aerionna took off at a brisk gallop, snowflakes battered against Serena's cold face as she bounced in the leather saddle.
Fifteen minutes later Serena galloped into the town of Ruby Field. The snow was falling heavily and Serena searched for an open inn or tavern. The streets were barren and showed no sign of life. When ever a big storm hit, most of the townspeople would shut down the entire village and lock themselves away in their homes or the local tavern to wait out the blizzard.
Serena dismounted in front of a tavern called What Ale's Ye and tied Aerionna's reigns around the wooden post.
"I'll be back for you, I promise." she whispered and rubbed the mare's neck then entered inside the small inn.
The dimly lit room smelled of ale, onions, and musk; Serena raised her sleeve to cover her nose. A young buxom waitress approached her and smiled a toothless grin. The woman's breasts nearly spilled over the bodice of the dirty, stained gown that she wore.
"What will ye have puppet?" she asked in a drunken slur. Serena smiled nervously, "Just something to drink please."
The waitress laughed, "Aye we have plenty of that here. What ye want to drink then? Ale? That's what everybody else wants." she said and stumbled around almost dropping the tray of grimy mugs that she was carrying.
"No, no. Nothing that strong." Serena said, shaking her head.
"Well take a s-seat and I'll pour ye a mug of h-hot apple cider." the waitress struggled to form the words as she turned and made her way to the bar. Serena looked around the musky room, searching for an empty table. Rounds of laughter and cursing rose from the tables mostly filled by men. The only women Serena could see were waitresses and they were all drunk it seemed. She walked slowly and several men stopped what they were doing and turned to watch her.
"Well what have we got here?" a large red haired man asked in a thick Scottish accent.
"Hey Simon, ye hire yerself a new waitress, have ye?" another man called out to the bartender across the room.
"She's a beauty!" one man said from a back corner of the room.
The Scottish man reached out and slapped Serena on the rear end. She yelped and whirled around.
"You will not handle me in such a disrespectful manner!" she spat at him. The man smiled revealing rotten teeth. There were large sweat stains near the under arm portion of his grimy shirt. Serena could smell his foul odor from where she stood.
"And who is going to stop me?" he looked around at the table that he shared with six other men that were just as brute looking as he. The men all laughed and raised their mugs gulping down ale. Serena backed away from the table slowly.
"I-I mean no harm...." she said nervously. The Scottish man stood and walked towards her.
"And neither do I puppet." he smiled, his eyes full of lust. The same drunk waitress appeared carrying a mug of steaming cider and stepped between Serena and the large man.
"Martin, have ye any respect for the poor girl?" she asked and slapped his broad chest. The brute of a man named Martin laughed loudly "Of course not dearie. Now stand out of me way ye rotten wench!" he growled and lunged towards Serena. "I see me self a pretty, precious little virgin!"
Serena cried out and raised her hands to shield her self from the drunken enraged man. Martin took Serena into his large arms and held her tightly against his chest. Serena whimpered and tried to free herself but was powerless against his strength.
"Unhand the maiden!" A voice sounded from behind Martin. He loosened his grasp and turned to see who had challenged him. Serena fled from his arms and ran to a corner on the other side of the room.
"Who dares challenge a Scotsman when he is about to claim his woman?"
A tall lean man stepped from the shadows and removed the hood of his black cape that covered most of his smooth face. He placed his hand on the studded hilt of his shining sword and stepped forward.
"That would be me, Peter Longstride, an Englishman at you service." The young man smiled and bowed sarcastically. Martin placed his chubby hands on his hips and chuckled.
"And who are ye to stop me?''
Peter shrugged and opened his mouth to reply.
"The way I see it, that innocent young damsel in distress was in need of a Savior; I merely rescued her from a filthy pig of a man." Martin's eyebrows furrowed and he glared at Peter.
"Ye best choose your words wisely boy. I don't take to being called names.''
''Yes and judging by your smell, you don't take to bathing either!'' Peter smiled and circled the large Scotsman, his hand ready to un-sheath his sword at any moment. Martin's face turned red, enraged with anger.
"Why I oughta-" he lunged at Peter, his hands outstretched. Peter swiftly stepped aside and Martin crashed into a pyramid of barrels. The empty barrels that once held onions, apples, and other vegetables rolled around on the wooden planked floorboards.
"Drunk I see, well this duel shall be a cinch!" Peter laughed and leaned down to help the Scotsman to his feet. Martin growled and wiped blood from his lip.
"I don't need help from a bloody Englishman!" he snapped and struggled to stand. He swayed and nearly toppled over. Peter waved his arms in the air.
"Give up Scotsman. You haven't got a chance!" Martin did not take likely to being challenged in such a manner. He had no plans of leaving without first taking out this cocky fool that was too good for his own liking. He steadied himself and gained his balance then turned to face the finely apparelled swordsman.
"A Scotsman never gives up!" he growled and swung a fist, lunging towards Peter.
"You do not look Scottish to me, why you're not even wearing a kilt! You're just a foolish, hotheaded imposter with a terrible accent!" Peter unsheathed his sword and swished it rapidly. It grazed Martin's arm slicing through his stained shirt. A thin line of bright red blood appeared. Martin stopped and covered the cut with his free hand.
"Why, you c-cut me! You bloody cut me!"
"Yes and I shall have no problem doing so again. I suggest that you bow out gracefully before you get yourself injured even more." Peter said trying to hide a smile. Martin stood up straight.
"I'll have the girl then." he replied in a deep voice. Peter smirked and turned to look at Serena who was hid in a corner behind a wooden table.
"She's not yours to have, I'm afraid." he answered. "She shall leave with me."
Martin wiped his brow streaking blood across his forehead.
"If she isn't mine, then what in the bloody blazes makes her yours?" he growled and stamped his boot heavily. Peter whirled and approached Serena. He stretched out his gloved hand to her. A look of worry filled her face and fear flashed in her eyes.
"Tell me fair maiden, who would you rather leave with on this stormy day?" he asked politely. Serena looked at the handsome young man who smelled of cedar and pine with a hint of musk. His eyes sparkled and dazzled like a pool of emeralds. When he smiled, his mouth revealed gleaming white teeth that were shaped perfectly. Serena then looked to the dirty, filthy, drunken Scotsman. A surge of confidence suddenly swept through her and she took Peter's hand.
"I don't think that I must choose for the solution is as clear as crystal." she replied as Peter led her from the corner and out into the main floor. Peter turned to face Martin.
"You have your answer. Now I suggest that you leave at once or I shall have to cut your oversized body into a thousand pieces right here and now."
Martin looked as if he would lunge towards Peter again. But he stopped himself then turned to exit the tavern.
"Ah keep the wretched wench!" He growled and stamped off.
"That's a good Scotsman!" Peter called out as Martin slammed the door behind him, stepping out into the roaring blizzard. Peter turned to Serena and smiled.
"Now how about that mug of cider you had asked for?"
~*~